


Sebastian of the Forest

by Lady Divine (fhartz91)



Series: Hummel Holidays 2015 [17]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Banter, Boyfriends, Christmas Tree, Future Fic, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, Sebastian is an ass, Sex Fail, and there might be some screwing outdoors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 22:27:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8262638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/Lady%20Divine
Summary: When Sebastian tells Kurt that they're going out to "get a tree", Kurt never imagined they'd be trekking up a freezing cold mountainside to chop one down.I had written this for the Hummel Holidays prompt "tree" and never posted it. Well, better late than blah, blah, blah...





	

“Oh my God,” Kurt groans when he takes his first steps out of the SUV and sinks up to his ankles in snow. “I thought you were kidding.”

“Nope.” Sebastian rounds to the trunk of his Porsche SUV and pulls out a wood-handled ax. “Totally not kidding.”

“Do we really have to _cut_ down a tree?” Kurt whines, watching Sebastian trek off ahead, seemingly unconcerned as to whether Kurt follows or not…which leads Kurt to the conclusion that he should just stay at the vehicle and let Sebastian go on this ridiculous errand alone. But seeing as Sebastian has the only set of keys and he’s already locked the doors, Kurt decides to follow Sebastian, pouting every step of the way, plowing deep tracks in the snow.

“Yes, we do.” Rope and cord looped over his arm and dangling across his chest, Sebastian hoists his ax over one shoulder. He carves a neat path up the slowly rising incline, his lighter, less grumpy steps making it easier for him to walk faster through the drift.

“But there’s a Christmas tree lot right there!” Kurt throws out an arm in the direction that they came. Past the snow-covered asphalt lot, where Sebastian’s SUV is currently one of five cars parked, stretch miles of evergreens behind them, already cut down and mounted onto wooden stands, just waiting to be plucked, flocked, and paid for.

“Cutting down a tree has been a tradition in my family since before I was born,” Sebastian says. “I’m going to hand that tradition down to my children someday.”

“But we don’t _have_ children!” Kurt argues. “We don’t even have a cat! Or a hamster! Or a plant!”

“We’re cutting down a damn tree,” Sebastian grumbles, “whether you like it or not. And if you don’t stop stomping, you’re going to exhaust yourself, and I’m not carrying you _and_ a tree back down this mountain.”

“I’d hate to know which you’d pick.”

There’s a pause, then they both say in unified agreement, “The tree.”

It’s a crisp December day, almost too cold to be bearable. The difference in temperature between the city and where they are is so drastic, it’s hard to believe they’re still in the same state. A perfect day to sit by the fire while binge watching Netflix, with a cup of hot cocoa beside a beautifully decorated Christmas tree. Kurt had everything he needed to make that happen, too…except the tree. Kurt and Sebastian had yet to have a day off together to pick one out. When Sebastian came home, tossed Kurt a coat, and said, “Come on, babe. We’re getting a tree,” Kurt had been ecstatic...until he discovered that Sebastian’s idea of “getting a tree” wasn’t a simple matter of driving to a lot in the city and picking out a decent six foot Douglas Fir or Scotch Pine. No. Sebastian had gotten his SUV out of storage, packed Kurt into it, and drove him for over an hour away from civilization, to a place where there’s no Starbucks, no reliable WiFi signal…and no doors on the bathroom stalls.

The snow on the ground at this altitude is deep, becoming deeper as the slope of the mountain rises, and as breathtaking as the world looks from this elevation, Kurt hates everything about this. He hates the snow getting into his boots, soaking his three pairs of socks. He hates the biting wind that seems to be purposefully sweeping down the mountain and straight into his face. Even with Sebastian walking ahead of him, right in front of him, he doesn’t provide a barrier from the wind at all.

 _That’s because he’s evil_ , Kurt says to himself. _The wind must go right through him._

Sebastian leads them deeper and deeper into the woods that climb higher up the mountain. Even though the man dressed in head to toe red flannel and brown corduroy who greeted them at the entrance to the lot and directed them up the mountain said that this was the preferred way for locals to get their trees, Sebastian and Kurt don’t see anyone else past the tree line. The air gets thinner and colder. The sunlight off the snow is brighter up here, blindingly bright, but it doesn’t offer Kurt or his rapidly chapping cheeks any warmth. He folds his arms over his chest and shoves his gloved hands underneath his armpits, but it doesn’t help thaw the tips of his fingers, which he can’t even feel anymore.

“There are trees everywhere up here. Just pick one! What in the hell are you looking for?” he gripes when they pass a swath of gorgeous trees and yet keep walking.

“I’m looking for the _perfect_ tree, you simpleton.”

“And what constitutes the _perfect_ tree in your opinion? Because from what I can see, we passed over two dozen _perfect_ trees getting here.”

Sebastian chuckles condescendingly. “And that explains why you dress the way you do.”

Kurt decides to let that remark slide in an effort to get them off this frickin’ mountain and home quicker, since home equals warmth and comfort and not becoming a human icicle. “Well, what about this one?” Kurt asks, pointing to a tree on his right.

“Nope.”

“This one?”

“No.”

“O- _kay_ , what about this one?”

“Stop helping.”

Kurt would throw his hands up in frustration, but his arms are locked in place hugging his chest. “So, if I’m not allowed to help pick out a tree, why am I here? What do _I_ get to do? Why couldn’t I stay home where we had eggnog and cable?”

“ _You_ get to look pretty and marvel in awe at my magnificent strength.”

The next laugh out of Kurt’s mouth sounds more like he’s gagging on a chicken leg. “I’m sorry. I think I just threw up in my mouth.”

“Funny. That’s not what you said last night when I was holding you up by your bony ass and pinning you to the bathroom wall.”

“My ass is not bony, you swine,” Kurt spits, which he regrets when his saliva solidifies on his lower lip. “Are you sure you didn’t drag me along to help signal the rescue helicopters when you accidentally slice your leg off with that thing and we get stranded out here in the snow?”

“Nah, because if we get stranded out here, and worse comes to worst, I’m eating you to survive.”

Kurt trips over a root hiding beneath the snow, but catches himself before he falls flat on his face. That’s all he’d need to add fuel to Sebastian’s fire - getting stuck face down like a toddler trying to make his first snow angel. “How romantic.”

“Well, of the two of us, I’m the one best suited to make it out alive out here, babe.”

“And what makes you say that? We’re both from Ohio, you know.”

Sebastian doesn’t say a word. He simply stops walking, turns around, and gestures with hands clad in SealSkinz military grade extreme weather gloves to himself, dressed in his multiple layers of Carhartt jacket, sweatshirt, and thermal; rugged, thick denim jeans over more thermal; his 30 Below thermal winter socks; and his North Face calf high, triple-lined, waterproof snow boots; then to Kurt, who’s dressed similarly, Sebastian has to admit, especially since Kurt has always been _King of the Layers_ , but with his ensemble geared more towards style than protection from the elements. The three pairs of socks he opted to wear instead of borrowing the pair Sebastian offered him were a good start, but individually, they aren’t rated for “arctic wear”, so together they’re just a bulky mess; the coat he chose after he eschewed the one Sebastian threw him is a bit too porous, soaking up more snow then it’s actually blocking; and the thermals he put on underneath his sweater and jeans are too thin to actually be effective in a place like this.

In Kurt’s defense, he would have done fine in the winter weather had Sebastian not decided he needed to get his Christmas tree from Mount Everest instead of Midtown Manhattan.

“Though, to be honest, I’m not sure that consuming you would do too much for me,” Sebastian says, veering off their path earlier than he’d intended and heading towards a nearby gathering of trees, guilt persuading him to move things along and get his boyfriend home before Kurt catches pneumonia. “There’s not enough fat on you to make a decent meal.”

“Bite your tongue,” Kurt says, teeth chattering. “I have it on good authority that I’m considered _well marbled_.”

They pass through a tight cluster of trees and enter a small clearing. The scene that they come upon is almost like one out of a Hallmark Channel movie, with God rays shining through the foliage overhead and lighting a single tree in the center. In the quiet of this tiny enclosed glade, Kurt can’t hear the whistling wind, and he immediately begins to feel warmer. All they need now is cartoon animals bringing them presents, and an angelic choir singing carols, and they’d be starring in their own Christmas special. It would be ideal, Kurt thinks, considering he’s a motherless child and he’s standing beside the Grinch.

He puts a pin in it, with a plan to write up a sample manuscript as soon as they get back to their apartment, provided he doesn’t lose any of his fingers before then.

Sebastian reverently tosses the rope and cord aside. He walks up to the center tree and stops in front of it. He opens his arms wide, ax clutched in his right fist. “There,” he declares. “There it is.”

Kurt looks at the tree in front of them, and then at all the identical trees surrounding it. “There _what_ is?”

“Our perfect tree.”

“And what makes _this_ tree any different from the sixty or more trees we passed hiking up here?”

“This one’s fuller than those twigs we passed, more symmetrical, with an almost pyramid top.” When Kurt doesn’t immediately agree, Sebastian motions to the tree more vehemently, trying to get his point across. “It’s just more…more _tree_ than those other trees…more Christmas…” Sebastian turns to his boyfriend standing off to the side behind him, arms crossed, head tilted, painful-looking raw red face pinched, shaking his head. Sebastian rolls his eyes. “You obviously don’t know your Christmas trees. If you can’t see why this one’s superior, I don’t know how I’ll be able to explain it to you.”

“Yeah, no, you see, that’s because you’re full of it,” Kurt counters defensively, wincing when his lips crack. He yanks off his gloves and searches his pockets for his SkinFix lip balm as he continues. “You just wanted to drag me all the way up here to torture me and hear me complain.”

“Because listening to you bitch is the absolute highlight of my day,” Sebastian mumbles as he grips his ax with both hands and gets into position. But something in the sarcastic tone he used tells Kurt that that’s exactly what he was doing. “Okay, stand back.” Sebastian puts a warning hand up and waves Kurt away. “I don’t want you trying to _help_ again and getting skewered. These are new jeans. I don’t want blood on them.”

Kurt scoffs at Sebastian’s attack on his intelligence. “Believe me, I have no intention of getting anywhere near you and that instrument of death.”

Kurt takes a step back, then three more as Sebastian hoists the ax behind him. Kurt fishes his iPhone out of his pocket, preparing to photograph what is sure to be the most hilarious attempt by a trust fund baby to do something as labor intensive as chop down a tree, with an ax, no less. If Sebastian had brought a chainsaw, Kurt might give him a little credit. But this quest was doomed from the start. Kurt knew that. That’s the only reason why he agreed to come along in the first place once he realized where they were headed instead of calling 9-1-1 to come to his rescue. Watching Sebastian Smythe attempt to chop down a tree with his hands might definitely be worth wet socks and a nightmare case of the flu.

Kurt holds up his camera, ready to film as Sebastian takes his first swing, which, surprisingly, buries the blade of the ax a respectable distance into the wood. But it’s the pull back that really gets Kurt, the way Sebastian locks his feet into the snow and dislodges the blade. Kurt can’t see Sebastian’s back through his coat, but he can imagine the play of his muscles beneath his skin, the rise and fall of his broad shoulders, the cut of his delts showing through as they strain with effort. Kurt has seen Sebastian naked over a hundred times, has watched the man fuck him in videos that they’ve made. He can picture in crystal clear detail everything going on beneath Sebastian’s clothes as he swings that ax…and hilarious isn’t the word he’d use.

“Mmmm…” Kurt hits the record button and focuses his camera on his boyfriend’s…assets. After a few seconds of chopping, Sebastian realizes that Kurt has stopped commenting or complaining. He stands up and takes a breather, catching the tail end of Kurt’s complimentary hum.

“ _Mmmm_ what?” Sebastian turns around, curious to see what Kurt has been doing that’s kept him quiet this whole time. “Why are you recording me?”

“Because…” Kurt bites his lower lip, deciding between telling Sebastian what’s really on his mind as opposed to coming up with some other witty remark. Now that Kurt takes a good look at it, Sebastian did find them the best tree on the mountain. Plus, Kurt doesn’t want to add to Sebastian’s perceived victory by admitting that watching him cut it down is becoming a massive turn on.

“Because…”

“I don’t know. Maybe because watching you be all lumberjack-ish is…kind of hot.”

Sebastian smirks, leveling the ax back over his shoulder. “Only kind of?”

“Well, yeah,” Kurt says, switching off his camera and putting it his pocket, seeing a make-out break forthcoming. “The walk up the mountain took a lot out of me.”

Sebastian leans his ax against the trunk of a tree and saunters up to his boyfriend. “Well then…maybe I can put something _in_ you.”

“I wish you would…” Kurt teases.

With a suggestive smile on his own frosty lips, Sebastian wraps one arm around Kurt’s waist and pulls his body to him. He reaches his other hand down to fondle the bulge in Kurt’s jeans and stroke, pausing in between to tug at the buttons of Kurt’s fly, and Kurt knows Sebastian has more on his mind than just kissing. He looks nervously around at their private nook. “W-what? _Here_?”

“Why not?” Sebastian shrugs. “We’re alone. There’s no one else around…no one who’ll hear you scream…”

“Because it’s _freezing_!” Kurt laughs, watching Sebastian take off his gloves.

“Come on…” Sebastian begins unbuttoning Kurt’s wet coat, starting at the middle and working down. “I’m not going to strip us naked or anything. Besides, you’ll warm up in no time. You know what they say about body heat…”

Kurt grins, not stopping Sebastian from moving on to the buttons on his jeans. “You know, this reminds me of one of those bad amateur porn videos on the Internet. The ones that try to have a story line, but the acting’s just so awful it turns into a comedy.”

“What the hell pornos are _you_ watching?” Sebastian asks, nuzzling past Kurt’s icy jaw and into the warm skin of his neck. “And how come you’re not sending me any links?”

“Well…maybe we can…watch one or two…when we get…home…” Kurt stutters, shivering when Sebastian’s cold mouth connects with his flesh, then melting beneath the heat of his boyfriend’s tongue. Sebastian walks Kurt backwards, away from their half-chopped pine to the shelter of a different tree, moving them a safer distance on the off chance the poor thing decides to finish itself off without their help.

“Oh _God_ Kurt,” Sebastian moans, warming his hands by wedging them betwixt the soft skin of Kurt’s groin and his growing erection.

“Sebastian,” Kurt murmurs as his boyfriend’s hungry mouth sucks a mark into his sensitive collarbone, “I just…I just want you to know that…if we freeze to death…or get eaten by a bear…I’m blaming you entirely.”

“Wow,” Sebastian mumbles, grabbing Kurt’s trembling hands and bringing them to the zipper of his own pants, trying to put them to good use, “do you _ever_ stop complaining?”

***

“Well,” Kurt grumbles, trying to re-button his jeans with numb fingers, “that was less than memorable. I hope that doesn’t become part of the tradition.”

“Nice,” Sebastian grumbles, rushing to help Kurt do up his now useless coat. “Excuse me if taking a nosedive made my boner die. It’s a wee bit cold out here, you know.”

“Who would have thunk…ugh.” In an attempt to salvage his drooping coiffure, Kurt tries combing his fingers through his hair and hits resistance. “I think I’ve got sap in my hair.”

“How would you know with all that other shit you put in it?” Sebastian quips, zipping up his pants.

“Ha-ha. Funny. Can we go back to getting our _perfect_ tree now, Grizzly Adams?”

“I don’t know,” Sebastian says, looking at the tree they’d been fucking against before his enthusiastic thrusting caused them to slip and take a header into the snow. “I think I like _this one_ now.” Sebastian pats the trunk, shaking loose a minor avalanche from the branches that drops smack dab onto Kurt’s recently repaired do.

“Why _this one_?” Kurt asks, looking judgingly over the less than spectacular tree.

“Well, we fucked on it. That makes it ours.”

“This isn’t a department store, Sebastian. I don’t think _you break it, you buy it_ applies here.”

“I think this falls more under the guidelines of _I licked it, now it’s mine_.”

“I understand the sentiment,” Kurt says, abandoning a second complicated attempt at brushing the snow off his hair and, instead, shaking his head like a dog, “but this one’s got a dent in it…and it’s shaped like your ass.”

“That’s a good thing,” Sebastian says, walking off to retrieve his ax. “So we’ll know which side to put your mutant ornaments on and face toward the wall.”

 


End file.
